Prisoner #1

The ropes binding him were rough, cutting into the flesh of his wrists. Time was a fluid thing now, days and nights measured only by the scant light coming through the barred window high above his head. He had long since lost track of the date. It didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered since his own brother had imprisoned him here so long ago. It was hard to even remember what they had fought over. Only that he lost and the wounds from that battle still burned.
All around him, he could hear the screams of other prisoners trapped in with him. They, at least, were guilty. Of that, he was sure. Their crimes were cried out for all to hear when they entered this prison. What had they said for him when he was cast into this dark place? Ah yes, guilty of the crime of challenging a higher authority and losing. How could he ever forget?

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